


Check the time

by ifonenight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Castiel in Panties, Drunk Sex, High School Musical References, Lapdance, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Strip Tease, Tipsy Cas, Tipsy Dean, brain tumor but nobody has it don't worry, listen none of this is as appealing as it sounds, more like tipsy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:50:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7520905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifonenight/pseuds/ifonenight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's drunk - <i>tipsy!</i> - ideas are not always the best. </p><p>... Cas' ass is, though. Small consolation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Check the time

**Author's Note:**

> End notes hold all the answers.  
> Be strong.

“Cas,” Dean says one night, gesturing drunkenly at his best friend-slash-partner. They're still a bit unclear on that one, but whatever, as long as Cas is with him he doesn't really care about how they call their relationship. Shit’s the same.

“Cas,” he repeats, putting down his beer to crawl over to Castiel. They're sprawled on the carpet, enjoying an evening of alcohol and shitty tv shows. 

Cas burps and lowers his own bottle to make room for Dean.

Dean frowns at him and waves at the air in front of his face, but Cas just shrugs and Dean is too focused on his task to reprimi-reprema- tell Cas how fucking rude that was.

“So,” Dean says, all business. The room sways a bit then and he slaps a hand on Cas’ face to balance himself. Cas swats it away with an angry squeak but luckily Dean has already found his balance again.

“So,” he starts a second time, “’ve done a lap-dance for you and. You came like a fucking train. But you haven't done that for me yet. So. ’think,” - he’s interrupted by a hiccup - “’think you shud. Soon. Now.”

Cas looks at him with huge, glassy eyes for a couple of seconds longer than normal. 

“Our stereo’s broken,” he answers, voice rough. 

“Then sing!” Dean exclaims, shoving him on the chest. Cas stumbles backwards and his flapping hands miss his beer for a like millimeter, which is a good thing for their white sofa. He pinches Dean on his tummy for that, and Dean’s look fills with hurt and sadness.

Cas rolls his eyes and gets up, watching Dean fall on his ass and sputter and babbling “the fuck, Cas!”, unprepared for the change. 

“Fine,” he says, grabbing the couch to stabilize himself. “But I need five minutes to prepare.”

 

Dean is sitting impatiently in a kitchen chair and a leaning a little sideways when Cas comes back from their bedroom, wearing a pair of Dean’s hot pink panties, socks with a bee design because his feet are always cold, and… a watch? He was not wearing a watch before.

Dean is very confused but that may be because the room is slightly inclined to the right and he’s more than tipsy. Not, like, fully drunk, though, mind you.

Cas marches toward him, even though he has to change path a couple of times because he keeps tending a little too much to the left. 

He finally stops in front of Dean, and when the hell has he got that bottle of water? 

Dean looks at him suspiciously. “Did you just pull that out of your ass?” he asks. He intended it as a joke but it actually doesn’t sound that strange. Cas’ ass can be very accommodating. 

Cas rolls his eyes, then makes a face probably at the nausea that came with the gesture.

“Drink,” he says, pushing the bottle into Dean’s hands. 

Dean obeys and takes a long gulp, which is a relief for his throat. He passes the bottle back to Cas, who finishes it, then tosses it somewhere nearby. 

“Now,” he says, with a sultry voice, coming closer so that his legs are between Dean’s . “Are you ready for some sinning time?”

And, yeah. That’s enough to make Dean choke with laughters. 

Cas looks a little offended, but tries to stay in character. “If you’re going to laugh at me then you can forget this _sweet_ _ass_ ,” he says, finger-quoting around the last two words and smacking his own cheek.

Dean can’t remember how much a human brain can go on without oxygen but he’s pretty sure he’s past that point. He manages to get a little worried while he’s laughing his lungs out. Figuratively, of course. For now.

“I _did_ _not_ laugh when you tripped our first time and faceplanted on my dick,” Cas squawks indignantly, and that sobers Dean up immediately. Cas always has to play that card.

But he's right. Dean’s being a dick and laughing was a dick move.

He giggles. 

Cas squints and starts to turn, but Dean grabs him by his hips and stops him from moving away.

“Sorry, babe,” he says, soothingly. “You know how cheerful I get when I’m tipsy. You’re still awesome.”

Cas grumbles a bit but settles, sitting down on Dean’s lap, and pins him with a glare. 

“First rule of this club: clients don’t laugh at strippers,” he says in a serious voice, which threatens to send Dean in a chuckling fit again. 

He politely refrains. 

Cas seems satisfied by that, and pecks Dean on the lips. Cas is adorable. 

“Not even when they sing,” murmurs the improvised stripper against his lips, and Dean nods along. He can behave like an un-ass. At times. 

“Okay.” Cas clears his throat, and starts humming something off-key that’s still weirdly familiar. Dean tries to guess what it is, but he's distracted a millisecond later by Cas’ dick grinding on his own. Fuck music, honestly. Fuck Cas,  _ definitely. _

And then the words come.

“What time is it?” Cas intones, tapping the watch he has on his wrist. “Sinning time, it’s our vacation!” 

Dean stills abruptly his hips, which were plastering his cock on Cas’ clothed (albeit barely) ass. He stares up at his partner, speechless. 

Cas doesn't seem perturbed by his lack of movements, or by his dumbstruck expression, and just pushes his groin down harder, rolling his waist.

“What time is it? Orgasm time, that’s right, say it loud!”

Dean is seriously reconsidering how drunk he is, and wondering if this may be a nightmare or even an hallucination. How many beers did he have?

“What time is it? The time of our lives, anticipation!”

One, two, three… Five? Are five beers enough to make him hallucinating Cas singing a not-safe-for-kids version of an High School Musical’s song? And what does this tell him about himself?

“What time is it? Sinning time, cock’s out scream and shout!”

Oh god, is he developing a brain tumor? Shit, shit, he’s so young, he can’t die like this, he can’t-

He’s suddenly distracted from his panic by a hand down his boxer, which are being pushed down. The hand starts stroking, but his dick is still mostly limp, you know, with the song and the tumor and the alcohol and all. What the fuck.

Cas - who is probably real and probably really singing a hardcore variant of an  _High School Musical_ ’s hit to him - goes back to humming only while he’s concentrating on making Dean hard, and Dean is incredibly grateful for that. He focuses on the friction against his dick and how good it feels, and it works. He moans.

“Finally your dick is hard, good to be chillin’ out”

Dean groans and whimpers.

Cas pulls away from him a little and lowers his panties, grabbing Dean’s dick and putting it between his asscheeks, moving forward and backward and estabilishing a rhytm.

With a mischievous smile, he makes a show of how Dean's cock is  _ not _ in his ass yet.

Dean doesn’t even care all that much about the song at this point.      

“I’m off the cock, the pressure’s out! Now my man’s what it’s all about”

The tune is kind of catching. Also the head of his cock is kind of catching Cas’ hole and Dean may or not may be ready to go through all of this with the promise of a good fuck in sight. 

“Ready for some comeshine-”

“That didn’t even make sense!”

“For my ass to take a chance,” Cas sings louder, letting Dean’s cock penetrate his hole a tiny bit. Dean gasps.     
“I’m here to stay, not movin’ away, ready for a sinful romance”

Dean is quite seriously on the verge of crying. His brain can’t decide on which way he should take: ignorance and pleasure, or awareness and disgrace.

“Are you ready, going crazy, yeah”

Cas is still pumping Dean's erection, even now that’s a couple of inches in his ass. He tosses Dean a smirk.

“Still out,” he sings cheerfully, but Dean is too turned on to scowl at him.

With a grin, Cas slams down. 

Dean may be dead. He’s not quite sure. 

“Come in me,” Cas whispers in his ear, the melody even more off-key. “And let me hear you now.”

Dean is panting, ready to shoot, and then Cas moves his hips just right and- he’s comin-

“Holy cow, look at the time! Sinning time!”

Dean slumps in his chair, whimpering and on the verge of tears. His dick twitches mournfully inside Cas, and there's not much pleasure coming from it.

“There are less cruel ways to ruin an orgasm,” he sniffs, punches Cas in the gut when he starts laughing. 

He's not going to see High School Musical - shut up, it's a classic - in the same way ever again.    
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the [Spn Coldest Hit's challenge](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/), [July's round](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/146648925185/julys-prompt-posting-dates-15-18-of-july-the).  
> Prompt: Hashtags - which consisted in choosing a tag from @ao3tagoftheday, and then writing a story around it. I chose [ #Holy cow, look at the time #Sinning time](http://ao3tagoftheday.tumblr.com/post/147406518343/the-ao3-tag-of-the-day-is-when-bae-comes-over).  
> Now, you must know that when I see any variation of "What time is it?" "X-time", I inevitably think of High School Musical's [What time is it?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x42aPmtnVDg). Which is how this thing was born.  
> It's not even remotely as absurd as I wished it to be but hey, it's my first Coldest Hit! I'll learn.
> 
> [this is not beta'd. Sorry. Please point out any mistake you see!]


End file.
